IENA. Oh, could it turn you from your mad intent How freely would I give it! Drop this scheme, Dismiss your frenzied warriors to their beds; And, if contented with my hand, Tarhay Can have it here. TARHAY. I love you, Iena! IENA. Then must you love what I do! Love our race! 'Tis this love nerves Tecumseh to unite Its scattered tribes--his fruit of noble toil, Which you would snatch unripened from his hand, And feed to sour ambition. Touch it not-- Oh, touch it not Tarhay! and though my heart Breaks for it, I am yours. PROPHET. His anyway, Or I am not the Prophet! TARHAY. For my part I have no leaning to this rash attempt, Since Iena consents to be my wife. PROPHET. Shall I be thwarted by a yearning fool! _(Aside.)_ This soft, sleek girl, to outward seeming good, I know to be a very fiend beneath-- Whose sly affections centre on herself, And feed the gliding snake within her heart. TARHAY. I cannot think her so-- MAMATEE. She is not so! There is the snake that creeps among our race; Whose venomed fangs would bite into our lives, And poison all our hopes. PROPHET. She is the head-- The very neck of danger to me here, Which I must break at once! (_aside_) Tarhay--attend! I can see dreadful visions in the air; I can dream awful dreams of life and fate; I can bring darkness on the heavy earth; I can fetch shadows from our fathers' graves, And spectres from the sepulchres of hell Who dares dispute with me, disputes with death! Dost hear, Tarhay? [TARHAY and braves cower before the PROPHET.] TARHAY. I hear, and will obey. Spare me! Spare me! PROPHET. As for this foolish girl, The hand she offers you on one condition, I give to you upon a better one; And, since she has no mind to give her heart Which, rest assured, is in her body stity There,--take it at my hands! _Flings_ IENA _violently toward_ TARHAY, _into whose arms she falls fainting, and is then borne away by_ MAMATEE. (_To_ TARHAY.) Go bring the braves to view the Mystic Torch And belt of Sacred Beans grown from my flesh One touch of it makes them invulnerable Then creep, like stealthy panthers, on the foe! SCENE SIXTH.--MORNING. THE FIELD OF TIPPECANOE AFTER THE BATTLE. THE GROUND STREWN WITH DEAD SOLDIERS AND WARRIORS. _Enter_ HARRISON, _officers and soldiers and_ BARRON. HARRISON. A costly triumph reckoned by our slain! Look how some lie still clenched with savages In all-embracing death, their bloody hands Glued in each other's hair! Make burial straight Of all alike in deep and common graves: Their quarrel now is ended. 1ST OFFICER. I have heard. The red man fears our steel--'twas not so here; From the first shots, which drove our pickets in, Till daylight dawned they rushed upon our lines, And flung themselves upon our bayonet points In frenzied recklessness of bravery.